Drarry Collection
by Michy Drarry Shipper
Summary: A collection of Drarry drabbles and oneshots written for the Ultimate OTP Competition. Various genres and side pairings. Ratings will vary K-T. Round 5: Harry never could have imagined his life would turn out this way.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Harry Potter.

**Rated:** K+

**Slash-tastic Drabble-Athon December Prompt 35:** "You're cute when you do that."

**Also:** Written for Ultimate OTP Competition Round 1, prompt "I need to see you - in private."

* * *

"I need to see you - in private."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron growled.

"That doesn't concern you, Weasel."

"It's fine guys, I'll be back soon," Harry assured his friends.

Draco turned on his heel and Harry followed him. They rounded a corner and found themselves in a deserted corridor.

"In here," Draco murmured, pulling Harry into an empty classroom.

With a flick of his wand, Draco cast an elborate privacy charm over the door. He locked eyes with Harry, and without further ado, slammed him into the wall and proceeded to ravage his face. Harry responded enthusiastically, moving his lips across Draco's jaw and down his neck. Draco ran his hands up from Harry's shoulders to thread through the boy's black hair. He tilted Harry's face towards him and pressed their mouths together. After several minute of frantic snogging that made Harry dizzy, he finally pulled back slightly.

"So, why the sudden urge to drag me away from my friends in the middle of the day and attack me? I was going to see you tonight anyway."

"It's your own fault," Draco grumbled, slipping a warm hand up the back of Harry's shirt.

Harry shivered. "What did I do this time?"

Draco averted his gaze from Harry's appraising stare, focussing on undoing Harry's shirt buttons.

"You were laughing," he admitted sheepishly.

Harry watched in amusement as Draco flushed.

"You're blushing," Harry smirked. "You're cute when you do that."

Draco's eyes glinted. "Help me with this and I promise I'll blush some more."

"Done."

* * *

**A/N:** Review now to receive your free fairy floss!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed this collection :) I was quite surprised to see how much interest there was in this, actually. All these entries are written for the _Ultimate OTP Competition_, so updates will be weekly. Hope you enjoy this one!

**Rated:** K+

**Written for: **_The Ultimate OTP Competition_, Week 2, Genre: Romance_, The Star Challenge,_ for Alpha Centuri, write a story in Golden Trio era, and _The Duct Tape Competition,_ for Leopard, write about seduction

* * *

Gentle was not a word that anyone who knew Draco would use to describe him. Draco was prickly, with a sharp tongue, eyes that shot daggers and permanent stubble that painfully scratched whomever had the honour of kissing him. He was manipulative, because he would do anything to get what he wanted, selfish, because he didn't care if his schemes got in the way of other people's plans, and icy cold to anyone that dared question his choices.

Gentle? Never.

But when he directed his efforts into seducing one Harry Potter, he was forced to employ a certain degree of tenderness. Harry was a boy who craved affection, perhaps even more so than Draco himself. So when Draco was with Harry, he would temper his harshness with humour, shoot him the odd sultry look amongst the glares, and as for the kissing? Well, they hadn't quite gotten to that point yet. When they did, Draco would make sure to use a close shave spell.

He wasn't sure if this soft approach was working, though. Harry certainty flirted back, but he never seemed to make a definitive move. Not to mention the fact that they were still on a last name basis. The git was obviously scared of how his idiot friends would react. So much for Gryffindor bravery.

Draco concluded that he would have to up the ante on operation Seduce Potter. He would have to show Harry once and for all that he could love him like he deserved.

_A few weeks later, between classes..._

"Malfoy!"

Draco smirked and turned on his heel. "Potter?"

Harry fidgeted with his robes, barely managing to look Draco in the eye. "What's the matter with you?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

Harry rubbed his chin. "You know what I mean. You've been all quiet lately. Is something the matter? Is it your parents, or something to do with Voldemort?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Draco said spitefully. "Then you'd be able to indulge your saving people obsession."

Harry blushed. "So you're not in any sort of trouble?"

"Unfortunately for you, no, I'm not," Draco replied.

"Okay, well… If you do need to, um –"

"Of course, I'll be sure to come to the Saviour if I need saving," Draco cut in. "Is that all?"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Pretty much. Bye."

With that, he turned around and scampered off, presumably to join the other two thirds of the Golden Trio.

Draco sauntered off in the opposite direction, insides dancing.

* * *

"Why am I doing this again?" Blaise asked.

"Are you really complaining about having the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of snogging me?" Draco demanded.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, you are a good snog."

Pansy elbowed her way between them as they descended the staircase on the way to the Great Hall. "And how, may I ask, do you know that?" she challenged.

Blaise rolled his eyes again. "Really, Pansy, who hasn't snogged Draco?"

Draco shot Blaise a withering look while narrowly avoiding a slap from his ex-girlfriend.

"It's hardly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, then, is it?" she sniffed. "And keep rolling your eyes, I hope they roll right out of your overinflated head."

"You're just jealous because he's not using you for his stupid schemes," Blaise smirked.

The Slytherin posse entered the Great Hall and found seats at their table, Pansy still sulking, Draco and Blaise not caring in the slightest. Over breakfast, Draco made sure to brush against Blaise's arm every time he reached for the pumpkin juice. He didn't even have to look at the Gryffindor table to know that Harry was looking – he could _feel _the green-eyed boy's intense gaze boring into him.

Over the next week, Draco intensified the flirting, until one day outside Potions…

Blaise ran his tanned hands up Draco's chest and curled them around his neck. Draco purred and tilted his head to the side, letting himself be pushed into the stone wall. A strangled coughing noise disrupted the silence. Blaise and Draco broke apart, blinking away the post-snog haze, to see Harry blushing and backing away.

Draco sighed and folded his arms. "If you're just going to stand there, gaping, could you please be quiet about it?"

Harry's face flared an even deeper shade of red. "I – I'll just get going now."

"Suit yourself," Blaise muttered smugly.

* * *

The walk to Hogsmeade was punctuated by the excited chatter of students and the crunch of their feet on autumn leaves. Draco strolled along, hands in pockets, listening to the buzz without really hearing what was being said. He finally reached the broken bit of fence he was watching for, and slipped through it smoothly. Most students ignored his departure from the lane, but in the corner of his eye, Draco spotted a figure with scruffy black hair hesitating.

Draco gave a silent cheer before heading into the trees. He walked purposefully for a couple of minutes, then hung back until he heard the snapping of twigs. Confident that he was indeed being followed, he continued towards the patch of ground oddly unmarked by leaves. Draco ambled around it. He would have to time it well.

A loud crunch made him spin around. _Oh shit_. A huge, feathered, definitely-not-Harry beast was eying him. This was _so_ not part of the plan.

"Go away, bird!" Draco screeched in a panic.

The hippogriff seemed to take great offense at this term of address, and it stepped towards Draco menacingly. Draco drew his wand and brandished it threateningly.

"Don't come any closer, I'm warning you!"

The hippogriff took no notice. Indeed, it picked up the pace, stretching its wings to the side as it charged at the screaming Draco.

"NO!"

Suddenly, Draco was pushed back, and he fell head first into the pit he had set up. He landed with a thump on the ground, charmed to be springy. He looked up and glimpsed a flash of feathers and robes.

"Shhh."

Seconds later, Harry peered over the edge. "I thought you said you'd let me know in advance if you needed saving."

"Shut up," Draco grumbled, brushing off his robes. "Well, are you going to get me out?"

Harry obligingly cast a robe charm and pulled Draco up. The blonde cowered at the sight of the hippogriff scuffing its hoof a few feet away.

"You really need to learn some respect," Harry said.

"What the hell is that bir – hippogriff even doing here?" Draco demanded as he climbed to his feet.

Harry shrugged. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Just enjoying nature."

"Right."

"What are _you_ doing here? Were you following me?"

Harry smirked. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Then you could let me save you."

Draco blinked. He did not like that knowing look Harry giving him. They gravitated back towards the path, leaving Buckbeak behind, Draco resolving to keep quiet until it was clear how much Harry was aware of.

"So," Harry started. "I heard you and Blaise broke up."

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes."

"So…"

"So what?"

"Are you going to drag this out?" Harry sighed.

Draco reddened. "What are you talking about?"

"Ask me out already. I would have done it ages ago, except you stupidly carried on with Blaise to make me jealous, and besides, I know you like feeling as if you're in control of everything. But patience has never been one of my strengths. So get on with it."

They had stopped a few yards from the deserted path, still standing in the shade of the trees, thought the sun slanted in on an angle that made Harry's green eyes glint.

Draco stared, stunned. "Since when have you been perceptive?"

Harry shrugged. "Since I started watching you. And, well, Hermione…"

"Oh." Draco felt strangely light now that it was all in the open. "Potter. Do you want to go out with me?"

Harry grinned. "Thought you'd never ask. Yes."

They stood smiling sheepishly at each other for a few pregnant moments, until Harry dissolved into sniggers. Draco's stomach flipped. Had this all been a trick?

"What? What's so funny?"

Harry covered his mouth, waiting for the fit to pass. "Sorry. It's just that… Falling into a hole? You would have had to set that up last month. And wow, it's not suspicious at _all_."

Draco's momentary relief was overcome with annoyance. "Well, I didn't exactly have a hoard of dementors or whatever to call on, did I?"

"Idiot," Harry breathed.

They climbed through the fence and continued the walk to Hogsmeade.

"Potter, how did you get there so fast? You weren't there when I turned around, but then you appeared out of nowhere just before it was going to attack me," Draco asked.

Harry looked at him, mouth twisting, as though making a decision.

"I was there the whole time," he admitted.

"I didn't see you," Draco frowned.

"Tell you what, I'll let you in on it, if you call me Harry."

Draco felt a grin spread across his face. "I can live with that. If you call me Draco."

"Draco," Harry whispered, and Draco felt his heart skip a beat.

He could _definitely _get use to that.

"Sure," Harry agreed. He reached a hand into his robes, and pulled out an ancient looking cloak. Still walking, he whipped the cloak around himself, and then he wasn't there at all.

Draco gasped and halted. "Harry?" he squeaked.

He felt a soft wind and in the blink of an eye, he was enclosed by the cloak, nose to nose with his new – boyfriend?

"I like when you say my name," Harry murmured.

Draco swallowed. "Me too."

He wasn't sure who moved forward first, but all of sudden, they were kissing, and _Merlin_, it was sweet, and messy and warm and – gentle. All too soon, Harry pulled back, a pained look on his face.

"Your face is all prickly," he complained.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Draco challenged.

Harry chewed his lip contemplatively. "Nah, not really."

And he resumed the fantastic kiss.

* * *

**A/N:** What did you think? If you have any requests, feel free to leave them in a review, or PM if you'd prefer, and I'll see what I can do. Also, if you love Drarry, check out my other stuff. The _Packet of Slashy Skittles Collection_ consists of drabbles centred on slash pairings, and quite a few are Drarries.

- Michy :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Harry Poter.

**Rated:** K

**Written for:** _The Ultimate OTP Competition_ Round 3, for Setting - a park, _The Star Challenge_ for Capella, write about the Invisibility Cloak and _The Duct Tape Competition_ for yellow, write a story taking place during the day

* * *

They were at a park, beneath the canopy of a magnificent fig tree, which shaded everything within a five metre radius of its riveted trunk like an umbrella. They had the whole day to enjoy together, and Harry wanted to make the most of it. They sat against the tree, the silky fabric of the Invisibility Cloak brushing against their faces as it lapped in the breeze. Out on the lake, a flock of ducks paddled around, dipping their faces into the water periodically, and dozens families picnicked around its bank.

People were appreciating their families a lot more since the war. A little over a year had passed, and still the memories were vivid and painful. The last of Voldemort's lingering supporters had been rounded up and incarcerated, largely thanks to Harry and the surviving DA members, and Harry had never felt safer.

As long as he was a celebrity, though (and as the Saviour of the Wizarding World, he would _always_ be a celebrity), he could never fully relax in public. He understood why people came up to him, and he usually didn't mind, as long as they didn't insist on touching him, but at times like this, he was grateful for the Invisibility Cloak which allowed him otherwise unobtainable levels of privacy.

Draco snaked an arm around his shoulders and Harry sighed as he leant into him. He had been running, hiding, _fighting _for so long, that luxuries such as rest felt strange to him. Without realising it, he had developed an addiction to adrenaline, and he still had days when he would get restless and need to get out of the house and disapparate to the middle of nowhere just to release the jitters.

But Draco helped. He was better than any Calming Drought, and a simple look or touch could settle even the most tempting urge to run. He was like a rolling pin, ironing out Harry's tension. That being said, he could most certainly still rile Harry up in other ways.

Harry pulled his gaze from the sparkling lake to look at Draco's hand, clasped with his own. He prised open the other man's fingers and traced the lines of his palm with his thumb, as if trying to memorise every inch. He ran his hand higher up the pale arm. The Dark Mark remained, faded but still visible. Draco tensed, as he always did, when Harry rubbed at it gently, as though trying to erase an inkblot. But he didn't stop. He needed to reassure his boyfriend that he didn't care about the mark. It didn't define Draco and it wouldn't inhibit their relationship. Draco gradually relaxed again, resting his chin on Harry's messy shock of black hair.

Harry twisted his face around. When they kissed, it wasn't like the desperate, frantic kisses of months past, when they were still unsure if they would survive to see each other again after one of Harry's raids on a suspected Death Eater hideout. Nor was it like the electric, passionate kisses of their nights. It was languid and content, full of hope for a future of peace and sweet with the promise of forever.

* * *

**A/N:** Heya lovely readers! This was quite different from my usual style. How did you like it? Or not like it? Become a lovely reviewer and let me know :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Harry Potter.

**Rated:** T

**Warnings:** substance abuse and implied self-harm

**Dedication:** Written for Rish, aka starlightmoonprincess, as part of _The Fic-Exchange of Epic Proportions_. Hope you enjoy this, lovely!

**Also: **Written for _The Ultimate OTP Competition_ Round 4, prompt 7, Dreamless Sleep Potion, the _Duct Tape Competition_ for Dark Blue, write about something happening at night and the _Off the Block Competition_ for Freestyle, hard, write a story over 2000 words

* * *

It's been months, but when he falls asleep, it's like the war has never ended. He's trapped in his own home, unable to walk through the halls without encountering those dead eyes and cruel smirks that make him shudder. His father is quiet, his mother is silent. They don't meet his gaze, so he looks at the floor. He can't look at _him_. The one whose red, slitted eyes pierce his soul. The one who has them all in the palm of his hand. The one who Draco knows wouldn't hesitate to crush them all like insects should he be dissatisfied. He is already slowly squeezing them, wringing out their dignity like muddy water from a filthy rag.

The pride Draco once took in his family name has been shredded. He can't bear to look at his own reflection, into those grey pools of fear. He is pathetic. He knows he is on the wrong side, but what can he do? He wants to survive this war, he wants his family to make it out alive, but he doesn't want their side to win. He knows there will be no glory for them. Everything will change. And he is trapped, alone, terrified.

* * *

It's been months, but when he's awake, the war is always fresh in his mind. In everyone's minds, in fact. People spit at him as they pass him in the streets, and he doesn't even look up. Gone is the trademarked Malfoy sneer of yesteryear. He is alive, he is free, but he is trapped in his own self-loathing.

He wants nothingness. He can't kill himself, whether because he is too strong, or too cowardly, he can't tell. So he tries for the next best thing. Dreamless Sleep Potion promises nights of uninterrupted blackness. No memories, no nightmares, no self. It is as close to nothingness as he will ever get.

* * *

It's been months, and still he takes the potion only meant for three days of consecutive use. It makes his waking hours blurry, but that is okay. There is nothing for him that is worth seeing in the light of day.

One morning, he resurfaces from his cocoon of darkness in a hospital. They tell him that he overdosed and will have to be monitored for another twenty four hours. He nods at the news and stares up at the blank, white ceiling. He will not try to sleep without the potion. He will wait. In the meantime, he will absorb himself into the whiteness above. It is a different sort of nothingness, and it doesn't suck him out of the prison of his own head, but it is better than talking to the doctors who visit.

Without noticing, he drifts off, and for the first time in months, he is back in hell. The cackling of his deranged aunt scrapes against his ear drums, and all he can see is deep, dark red, spilt all over the floor. The other Death Eaters jeer, as the person under the ravaged flesh screams and convulses. They call her a Mudblood, but Draco knows they are wrong. Her blood is not brown. It is _red_. Redder than anything he has ever seen.

* * *

When he wakes, he is no longer in hospital, but nor is he at home. He is in a dormitory of some kind, like he had at school, but there are only two single beds, and an adjoining bathroom. The cream walls are bare, but the bed on the other side of the room is unmade, so someone else obviously sleeps here.

Draco wonders whether he should stay and wait to be told what is going on, or explore and work it out for himself. He's not the adventurous type, but he doesn't trust himself to stay awake enough to choose the first option. He leaves the room and walks down a carpeted corridor, passing doors like his own, all numbered. At the end of the corridor is common room of sorts. There are _people_. He averts his gaze, but no one seems to be paying him much attention, anyway, so he sits on one of the couches and watches two men play chess. There is barely any chatter, but Draco is just glad that no one is talking to him.

After what could be hours, or minutes, a woman in white approaches him. She gently explains that he is in a rehabilitation centre to help him recover from his medication addiction. He may be in for weeks, or months, depending on how well he progresses. She guides him around, pointing out the dining hall, the recreation room and the garden. He will be required to attend therapy sessions five days a week. He will be allowed visitors every Sunday. All Draco can think of is the endless stretch of nights he must face without his Dreamless Sleep Potion. His only way of escape has been blocked.

He skips dinner. The supervisor woman, whose name he has no interest in remembering, warns him that this is the last night he will be allowed to do that. Apparently, the Articus Centre for Wizard Rehabilitation imposes a strict routine on all its patients, attempting to provide them with an order and a familiarity that serves as a foundation for their new, healthier lifestyles.

Draco lies in the dark, on top of the sheets. Interminable coloured shapes hover in his vision and he can feel sleep coming. He clenches his fists and jiggles his legs, but it's no use. He knows he is slipping…

The door crashes open. Draco shoots into a sitting position. He freezes, and so does the man in the doorway.

"Malfoy?" The voice is hoarse, but unmistakable.

"Potter."

The former rivals stare at each other. Draco notices deep bags under the intruder's eyes, and a heaviness in his stance that he has never seen before.

"What are you doing here?" Draco snarles.

He realises with a start that he hasn't spoken so much, and with such a tone since… Well, not for a very long time. Harry seems to break out of his trance and he closes the door and drags himself to the other bed, muttering under his breath. _Potter is a patient here?_ As if he can feel Draco's incredulous stare, Harry rolls to face him.

"What?"

"What are you doing here?" Draco repeats.

"I'm on holiday, obviously," Harry replies dryly.

"What are you supposed to be addicted to, saving people?" Draco continues scornfully.

"Something like that."

Draco glares at him, wondering how on earth he had the misfortune to be placed in the same dormitory as this git.

"Well," Harry yawns. "Goodnight."

He rolls to face the wall. Draco looks at the back of his head for another few minutes, then lays supine, mind abuzz. He doesn't sink into his nightmares until many hours later.

* * *

It takes a few days for Draco to realise that he doesn't have his wand. He notices that the only people who do are the staff of the centre. His therapist explains that this is for both the patients' and staff's safety. She does quite a bit of talking. Draco just sits back, and watches her twirl her wedding ring around her finger as she natters away. Her brunette ringlets bob with each swish of her head, her crossed legs shift constantly, her bright blue eyes are always wide and happy. Draco is glad that she doesn't make him talk. He doesn't listen to most of what she says, really. He just stares at the pot plants around the room or the fish in the aquarium on the wall behind her for the duration of each sixty minute session. His Monday, Friday and Saturday sessions start as 9.30 am, so the room is aglow with mid-morning sunshine, pouring in from the window on the right. His Tuesday and Thursday sessions are at 5.00 pm, so his therapist lights the room with blue cased lanterns. Draco has no preference for either session time.

On his first Sunday there, exactly a week after arriving at the centre, his mother visits. She asks him how he is faring. Not how he is _feeling_, because Malfoys don't share their emotions. He replies with a curt, "Fine." Which is a necessary, but entirely fallacious response, and they both know it. Narcissa can hear the hollowness in her son's voice and see the numbness in his gaze. Showing as much maternal affection as she dares, she holds his hand.

"We want you to get better, Draco. Your father and I both. Please, try for us, alright, darling?" she pleads softly.

Draco's hand is limp in her own, but he gives a small nod. Thus concludes their meeting.

* * *

When he wakes up on the following Friday, Harry's bed is empty, which is unusual, because every morning so far, he has woken before Harry. The bed has also been made, which is strangely disconcerting. Harry is not in the dining hall at eight o'clock for breakfast. Draco picks at his toast, then returns to their room to brush his teeth and shower. There is still no sign of him after Draco dresses. He's not in the recreation room when Draco walks through to attend therapy.

"Hello, Draco," his therapist says, beaming, as he takes a seat in the armchair. "What's on your mind this morning?"

Draco is about to give a noncommittal shrug, when his mouth opens of its own accord. "Where's Potter?"

His therapist's infallible smile falters for a moment. "I'm afraid I'm not permitted to discuss other patients with you, Draco."

Draco feels a cold wave pass through his body.

"What do you mean?" he asks sharply. "What's happened to him?"

The woman threads her fingers together. "I'm sure he'll be back soon enough. Now, tell me, how have you been sleeping?"

When Draco refuses to give any indication that he has heard her, she begins rattling on in the annoying way she does, and Draco stares at his hands. He doesn't know why he cares about where Harry is, but he does. This revelation is all the more unsettling given the fact that he thought he was beyond caring about anything.

* * *

His therapist is right. Harry does return, three days later. Draco finds him in their room after breakfast. He is uncharacteristically quiet, even when Draco demands to know where he's been and throws a shoe at his head. Despite Harry's inability to acknowledge his existence, Draco feels oddly relieved that he is back.

That night, instead of lying with his back to Draco, Harry sits leaning into the wall, arms folded. Draco mirrors his position and stares at him. The lamps are unlit, so only the faint moonlight illuminates the room. It's just enough to make out Harry's silhouette, but not his expression. Draco wonders if the git can see him at all, since he's not wearing his glasses. They seem to make a silent pact to stay awake. Draco's body feels weary, but he refuses to give in. It seems important, somehow, to keep staring at Harry, whose face has gotten a little more distinct now that Draco's eyes have adjusted to the dark.

"You have nightmares." It's not a question, and Harry's voice is crackly from disuse.

Draco doesn't answer.

"I do too."

Draco is hardly surprised by the admission. Who doesn't have nightmares these days?

"Why did you leave?" Draco doesn't know how his mouth is able to form such words without consulting his brain first and he slams the offending orifice shut as soon as he realises he's spoken.

The silence stretches like a rubber band, until the pressure is overwhelming.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't… know."

There is no more talking. Draco doesn't sleep. He stares at Harry through the night. He can't tell if Harry is awake, or just sleeping sitting upright, until the night bleeds into day, and the clear light flits through their window. As he watches, Harry's face gradually grows fully visible. Harry is awake. He is looking straight back at Draco. They both made it through the night, and for some reason, it makes Draco feel physically lighter. He smiles unconsciously. To his surprise, Harry's lips twitch in response.

"Smiling suits you," Harry whispers.

"You still look like shit," Draco replies.

Harry gives him the finger, but his smirk doesn't drop.

The rest of their day passes as per schedule. By the time they return to their room Saturday night, Draco is ready to collapse. He climbs into bed, arms and legs shaking, and falls into the pillow face down. He doesn't bother to look up as he hears Harry come in.

"Sleeping?"

Draco sighs in irritation and twists has face around, but he is too exhausted to form a snarky response. "Yes."

Harry nods and climbs into his bed resignedly. "Sweet dreams."

Draco scoffs. _Yeah, right_.

* * *

Sunday shuffles in quietly. Draco yawns himself awake. He rubs his eyes and sits up, feeling odd, but unsure as to what exactly has thrown him off balance. He looks over at the other bed, which Harry is thankfully still lying in.

"Sleep well?" Harry asks, catching Draco's eye.

Draco blinks, then gasps with the realisation. "Yes, actually."

It's true. His night had been empty. No dreams at all, peaceful and black, just as it had been with the Dreamless Sleep Potion.

"Me too."

* * *

The weeks fly by, and soon enough, both Draco and Harry are discharged from the Articus Centre for Wizard Rehabilitation. The nightmares don't stop. They probably never will. But they don't come every night. Both men go to therapy once a fortnight. When Draco craves the safety of the darkness, Harry wraps him in his arms, like a harness stabilising him over the rough patches. He won't let him disappear into the shadows. When Harry aches for the release of the blade, Draco holds his hands and forces him to hold his gaze. He never lets Harry take the easy way out.

It's been years and still Harry and Draco are together. Their days are sunny and their nights are warm. Draco no longer wishes for empty sleep. His dreams are just as joyful as his waking hours. He lives in the light he deserves.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews are super duper-ly appreciated :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Harry Potter.

**Rated:** K

**Dedication:** Written for Anka as part of _Gift Giving Extravaganza_. Hope this is cute enough for you, my darling :D

**Also: **Written for _The Ultimate OTP Competition_ Round 5, prompt 4, waving goodbye, the _Duct Tape Competition_ for Purple, write slash and the _Off the Block Competition_ for Freestyle, easy, write about your OTP

* * *

They were standing on Platform 9 and ¾. The train was tooting its final warning and the air was alive with the excited squeals of Hogwarts students, waving goodbye to their families. Harry looked on with pride as his youngest, Lily, blew kisses from her compartment window. Her cheeks were stretched impossibly wide by her smile, and her eyes were glowing with anticipation. She would be just fine, Harry was sure of it. James and Albus weren't nearly as animated, and they had outright refused to hug him goodbye, but Harry knew they were happy to be going back, and that was enough for him.

The train began to lurch, and with a burst of steam, it pulled out of the station. Harry waved it off until it was out of sight.

Ginny gave him a hug around his shoulders. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Of course."

The bubbly redhead grinned her approval and rejoined Blaise. Harry stood staring after the Hogwarts Express, reminiscing. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of a blonde man sauntering over.

"What are you still doing here?" Draco drawled.

"Remembering stuff. You know," Harry explained.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're such a sentimental tosser."

"What do you want to do now?" Harry asked, ignoring the jibe.

Draco crossed his arms and tilted his head in thought. "Many things, ninety-five per cent of which are too indecent to do at a train station."

Harry snorted and pulled Draco in for a kiss. "You really can't get enough of me, can you?"

"Look who's talking," Draco replied, words muffled against Harry's mouth.

Harry fluffed his fingers through Draco's hair, smirking as Draco batted him away, irritated.

"I'm going to miss them so much," Harry admitted. "In fact, I miss them already."

They linked arms and walked back through the magic wall.

"They'll be back before we know it," Draco reassured him.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"When will you learn that I'm always right?"

"No comment."

Harry fell back into his thoughts as Draco led him out of the train station, looking at the hordes of people rushing about without really seeing them, and hearing the crackled loudspeaker announcements without actually comprehending the messages.

He never could have imagined that his life would turn out this way. It had taken him years to finally accept his feelings for his former rival, and when the impossible had happened and they had gotten together, Harry couldn't have been happier. His only disappointment was the fact that he couldn't have children in this relationship.

However, that dream had soon come true, too, when Ginny had offered to be his children's surrogate mother. She and Blaise hadn't wanted their own children, and they were happy to help out their best friends in this way. They revelled in their role as the "cool" Aunt and Uncle to both Harry's and all of the Weasley kids.

Draco had a similar agreement with Astoria Greengrass, a friend of the family, who had married her childhood sweetheart, Pansy Parkinson. Astoria had wanted a child badly, and Draco, although not as enthusiastic as Harry about being a father, had considered it desirable to pass on the family name. It had come as a great surprise to him (but not to Harry) that he enjoyed fatherhood just as much as his husband.

Harry was shaken out of his trance when he felt the nauseating tug of apparition. As they landed outside their seaside home, he gave Draco a push.

"You could have warned me! You know I hate apparition."

"I did!" Draco protested. "You were off in fairyland again."

"Right, sorry," Harry said sheepishly.

"What were you thinking about, anyway?"

Harry smiled, taking in Draco's curious, beautiful face. Draco must have guessed what he was thinking, because he closed the gap between them and wrapped Harry in a warm hug. Harry curled his arms around Draco's neck. The words were unnecessary, but Harry said them anyway, because Draco deserved to hear them every moment of the day.

"I love you."

And Harry's heart sung, sending a rush of joy through his whole body, when Draco said the words that he would never tire of hearing. "I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favourited/followed this collection. This will be the last chapter, as the Ultimate OTP Competition is finished. But I will definitely be writing more Drarry in the not to distant future, so keep an eye out. Michy :)


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